friendliness

Have you ever broken down in tears in front of your doctor? 

The first time I was thirteen and my orthodontist had kept promising me that he was going to take off my braces. 

"They look great! Next time. Keep wearing those rubber bands!" 

Three weeks later: "Oh yeah they look great. Definitely next time. Wear the rubber bands in an 'X' across the front of your mouth for three weeks. Then you'll be set to get them off."

Three weeks after that: "Katie they look really good! We're just fine tuning now - hook these three rubber bands on this hook, then this hook, then up here and then back down here. We'll pop 'em off next time!" 

I felt like I had constructed Jacob's Ladder across my mouth, and the only person who might have been able to sympathize with me was Hannibal Lecter.

Another three weeks pass.

I walked into the office, totally confident that I was getting my braces off. I wore my rubber bands religiously and knew that this "next time" was the time. 

Dr. T: "blah blah blah...next time!"

And I couldn't hold it in any longer. My eyes welled up and the tears started to flow. Then I started to choke on my tears since my head was tilted back in that stupid reclining chair. Smooth. But Dr. T felt sorry for me, looked at my mouth one more time and said, "Well, okay. I guess we can take them off today."

WIN!

The second time I cried in front of the doctor was yesterday. The story is by no means as traumatizing as my braces story, but I cried way harder.

I guess that's what happens when you're a sophisticated working girl!

Having a mild case of Crohn's Disease is interesting because I never really feel "awesome" but when I feel "bad" it's not nearly as bad as it could be. So when my GI told me that I was doing everything right, including all of the yoga, I should have been totally relieved. But I was mostly frustrated since the fact is that I never really feel "awesome". 

Then he asked me about moving, and told me that he didn't have anyone to refer me to in Wisconsin, but that I needed to find a GI as soon as possible.  He then told me that I need another colonoscopy and a whole slew of other tests when I come home for vacation. 

And then in a matter of seconds my mind raced  - "Vacation: not for six months. Another colonscopy: no thanks. Moving tomorrow: scary. Being a real person: even scarier. Finding a doctor: when?! That reminds me - I need to print those forms. And my boarding pass. And transfer my prescriptions so I don't run out of medicine. So I can keep taking it. Forever."

And just like when I was thirteen, the tears welled up in my eyes and even though I was doing my best to force them back into my head, they just started rolling down my face, and my voice got uncontrollably  squeaky. My doctor looked at me like I was a beetle on its back - totally helpless but a little gross too. But he finally resorted to telling me that I will do great, and gave me a friendly hug, and I pulled myself together enough to pay the co-pay and get to my car. 

But now I'm in Wisconsin and very happy. Partly because everyone here is so gosh-darn friendly (the guy at World Market thanked me for using a 15% off coupon). And partly because I get to live in this seriously bitchin' city with my best friend.

Nerves and anxiety are just a part of the process, no matter what the transition is. Whether it's the right of passage that comes with having a pearly white, Invisalign commercial worthy smile, or the transition into adulthood marked by moving halfway across the country and starting a salary-paying job, things get stressful. 

So I think that having a blubbering release of stress is totally justified. I just have to make sure that when my next transition rolls around, I cry in front of a different doctor. My optometrist better watch out!

leisure dives

My family is borderline obsessed with the Yahoo! homepage. Not a day goes by in which someone doesn't say, "Did you see on Yahoo! this morning...?". Invariably, my dad makes some comment about a past TV star and why he hated his "python pants", someone sends me a link about the worst restaurant meals in America, or that my brother is surrounded by the most expensive places to live.

Bam! Pow! Kaboom!

In keeping with this tradition, I wanted to share the Yahoo! homepage article that made me smile, because, well, it's just funny.

I appreciated the thought and choreography that must have gone into this one.

As the summer is winding down, I hope that you can corral a friend or two and find the local swimming hole and do some leisure diving. Ideally, you could also round up some thrift store blazers and ties for a wonderfully preppy display of leisure diving. I mean, I don't want you going out and ruining your finest Brooks Brothers sport coat. That would be devastating. And not at all in keeping with the leisure diving philosophy.

california dreamin'

This is a taste of the views from my hike on Windy Hill. I'm convinced that I was born to live in Northern California, and my move to Wisconsin is just a stepping stone westward.

We'll see what happens, but I mean, seriously?!





I actually think this photo has an odd resemblance too the landscape I painted back in January.





Right?

I have also been inspired to start growing my own herbs, since last night I picked the most delicious smelling cilantro my nose has has ever sniffed.






This plant has cilantro, rosemary, and basil. Hopefully the Kellers will continue to use the "weeds" they have growing in the backyard since I'm super jealous and I'm only here for a couple more days.

Just more incentive to plant my own in Wisconsin!

things that make me feel old

1) The end of the Harry Potter era.

2) Discussing the benefits of different credit card rewards programs with my friends from high school (sapphire? platinum? venture?).

3) Learning that Felicity is coming out of the American Girl vault (and the sad reality that she's the doll I have).

4) Being called "Ma'am". All the time.

5) Seeing the kids you used to babysit in the grocery store, and then realizing they're in college.

It's a good thing I'm old enough to drink a few of these.

holy facelift!

A big girl in the big world needs a big girl blog, right?

I'm counting this redesign as a personal victory and a half-way completion of one of my New Year's Goals.

I hope that the prettiness I experience when I visit my own blog will now encourage me to, well, write more stuff. And what better way to kick off this facelift than to tell you about the other upgrades in my life! Yes, my shoe collection.

I've been easing my way back into running, and in doing so realized how much I actually missed it. I spent the first part of this week visiting my family in Alabama, and while I was there I was introduced to Fleet Feet, a bitchin' running store. While perusing the shoe wall, I found the New Balance Minimus Trail shoe, and I fell in love. They are a seriously minimal running shoe, but unlike the Vibram FiveFingers that make the poor soul who is wearing them look like they have amphibian genes, the NB Minimus has a toeless look that makes them look like cool kicks!

Well, at least I think so. And the cherry on top is that they are really fun to run in. Much like writing new posts on my newly beautified blog, I look forward to lacing up these bad boys.

Speaking of motivation, what better way to get excited about starting out in the real world with a real job than with a super fly pair of wedges!

These babies were my "Go Get 'Em!" present from my mom, and man am I anxious to buckle them up and show 'em who's boss.

Frankly I'd be tickled if someone stopped me in Trader Joe's and told me they were cute, (patrons of Trader Joe's take note) but if someone mistakes me for the boss that would be cool too.

I never knew I would...

...spread a pat of butter across my eyelid in a feat of desperation.

courtesy of Cooking Light

When my family goes to the beach, we tend to do a lot of cooking. And Wednesday we decided to recreate these Grilled Stuffed Jalapenos, featured in last month's Cooking Light Magazine. They are delicious. Unfortunately, I committed a huge jalapeno blunder.

In order (for most) to comfortably eat a jalapeno, the veins and the seeds of the pepper have to be cut out of the center, because those are the parts of the pepper that contain the capsaicin, which make it spicy. In helping my mom with this process, I ran each pepper half under water to rinse out all of the seeds so that no one would get an unpleasant surprise. But I took one for the team.

After I finished my job, I meticulously washed my hands with soap and water so that I wouldn't get any of that pesky capsaicin under my nails. 

That happened to me last year while making stir-fry in London and I had to soak my fingers in 2% milk - fat neutralizes capsaicin and makes it stop burning.

 I then absent-mindedly pushed a chunk of hair (aka grown-out bangs) out of my face. And my eyelid felt like I had struck a match on it.

I must not have been as meticulous as I thought I'd been, because my eyelid was burning, and I was really afraid that if I didn't do something soon the capsaicin would make its way into my eye.

I rummaged through the fridge in the futile hope that we had some milk other than skim, but shocker(!) there was none to be found. All that healthy eating coming back to bite me in the ass.  

The next thing I saw was a stick of butter in the covered compartment in the door. I didn't want to. I hoped for any other alternative. But there was no other answer (yeah, I'm a huge baby).

I whipped out a dinner knife, hurriedly unwrapped the stick, sliced off a piece. I bounded up to the bathroom and, with a look of disgust on my face, smeared it on my eyelid. 

Oh, and yeah, it worked. 

I thought it was ironically fitting that I watched the Barefoot Contessa make Jeffrey an anniversary cake while the butter worked its magic. Cause that cake had loads of buttercream frosting. 

I don't know what lesson you have learned from my story - either to always buy milk with some fat in it, wear rubber gloves while cleaning peppers, or simply that I'm embarrassingly stupid wonderfully glamorous - but those grilled stuffed jalapenos are damn good.